looks at us from the bottom of a mirror;
the art must be like that mirror
that reveals our own face
he cried with love when he spotted his Itaca
green and humble. The art is that Itaca
of green eternity, not of prodigies.
what happens and remains and is crystal of the same
Inconstant Heraclitus, who is the same
and it is another, like the endless river.
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lovely